Quantum Leap: Under New Management
by movielover57
Summary: Sam Beckett is relieved when his best friend finally shows up at Al's Place. Still coming to terms with the fact that he might truly be the only one controlling the leaps, Sam knows there's a mission he has to complete. Only...he might need some more help from inside the project to do it.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Quantum Leap or any of it's characters, etc. Please don't sue me. Quantum Leap belongs to NBC Universal as far as I know, and all the credit for it's creation goes to Donald P. Bellisario, and those involved with the production of this wonderful series. Some quotes in this story were taken from the show's final episode "Mirror Image."**

 **A/N: When I first watched the show, the finale had me like many others, disappointed. To think that Sam never made it home made me so sad. After all he'd done, he deserved to come home. Since then, I've re-watched the finale multiple times and I've come to appreciate it for what it is. They didn't have much notice of the show's cancellation, and they did what they could. Scott Bakula has said that if you watch the finale with that thought in mind, that you'll realize they accomplished a lot with what they were given. He's right. It's still not my favorite television finale by far, but I respect it! And the idea that Sam is out there somewhere continuing to put things right, is in it's own way very satisfying. :) With that being said, this is my own twist on how the show could have ended, or how it could have continued. This is part one of what I hope will be a four or five part/chapter piece. I'm sure there's a few technicalities, so forgive me. Constructive criticism is appreciated. Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 1**

He couldn't believe it! There was surely no way Ziggy could find him and after days alone, he had been painfully certain that he was going to be stuck in this place forever. Sam Beckett was as astonished as he was relieved to look across the bar and see Al, his friend Al, not the bartender, standing there in his white naval uniform just a few moments ago. There was so much to tell him, and he needed to talk to his best friend now. He followed Al, as the hologram quite literally walked through the front door of the bar . Sam opened the door, and closed it behind him stepping out into the hot, humid, August air. It was early evening, crickets were chirping. The sound of music and the smell of cigarette smoke permeating. The neon sign advertising beer, provided a slightly red glow to the front of the white building. They both excitedly said their greetings. Sam could only hope, as he quickly spouted off everything that had happened, that Al would be convinced by what he was going to say, just like he had years ago when he first explained the project that started all of this.

Al focused and listened intently, Sam giving every detail and theory he had on the last few days. But it became obvious mid-conversation, that rather than believing, the exact opposite was taking place. The man was growing more and more visibly concerned.

"Sam, uh, I think we better get you out of here."

"No Al…please, please," He begged. "Everything I'm telling you is the truth."

"Uh-yeah. You haven't been leaped around by God, or fate, or time. No, you've been leaped by a….bartender."

"He's not just a bartender…." Sam responded speaking with his hands. He could hear himself rambling on about blue and pink electrical energy. More theories burning in his mind, coming out of his mouth, as he paced back and forth. He'd been this way ever since he was a child. Ideas naturally flowed through him, like they were blood in his veins, and the only way to get them out was to start writing or speaking. Once he started, he knew he couldn't stop himself, even if others didn't understand. It was the genius in him.

And then there was Stawpah! Al had an uncle by the same name, same description as an old miner he met and watched disappear. There was no doubt, even if Al thought he was crazy. This was more than just coincidence. Sam sat down on the long bench by the window and started to laugh.

"Ah, just take it easy," Al said stepping back and tapping something into the handlink. "Uh, I'm gonna go back and figure this out with Ziggy."

Al was about to go through the imaging chamber door. Suddenly something occurred to Sam, grabbed at him from the back of his mind. Something from a leap, a memory. He'd been a lawyer in the south. A lawyer named St…St…Stanton! Larry Stanton. And he discovered something important, so important. There was a little girl. Sammy Jo. A daughter-his daughter. He had a daughter! Inhaling quickly, Sam jolted forward. "Al, wait!" He spoke the name slowly. He wanted to grasp it, to hang on to it. "Samantha. Josephine. Fuller."

"Sammy Jo?" Al said, dropping his arms to hang at his sides. Shock, registering in his eyes.

"Yeah."

"You're not even supposed to remember her Sam."

By his expression, he couldn't have surprised his friend more if he had grown wings and started to fly. The look on Al's face was unaltered, like he was in a trance. "I know. But I do. I told you I would." Sam replied.

"What about her?"

This was so much coincidence, that it couldn't be. The bartender had pointed at Sam's reflection in the mirror above the bar, and had told him that he himself controlled the leaps, controlled his fate. Everything that had happened, everyone he had run into, the similarities, Al's uncle. There had to be a rhyme or reason. Albert Calavicci. There was nothing he wouldn't do for his friend. Well…almost nothing. Sam still had questions he wanted answered, but he knew what he had to do. If he was the one controlling the leaps, there was at least one more mission he had to take. He would need some help. And although it might hurt his friend, he needed help from someone else inside the project.

Al's silence, waiting for a response, snapped Sam back to the moment. "You said she was working at the project, right? She came to work for Quantum Leap"

"Yeah. She's been spending time, working with the staff and the computers in your old office. She's got plenty of ideas, and it's obvious she has your brains, but Sam…"

"Al, I need you to do something for me. Not ask questions, just do it."

"Sure." He threw his hands up exasperated. "Sure. Pal, anything. "I'm gonna get you outta this. Whatever it takes….I'll get you outta this."

"Al," He said, hoping he would understand. "I need you to connect me to Sammy Jo."

"Ok."

"And Al," He sighed. "It needs to be her alone."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Quantum Leap or any of it's characters, etc. Please don't sue me. Quantum Leap belongs to NBC Universal as far as I know, and all the credit for it's creation goes to Donald P. Bellisario, and those involved with the production of this wonderful series. Some quotes in this story were taken from the show's final episode "Mirror Image."**

 **A/N: Hello! I'm so sorry this chapter has taken me so long to post. I started a new position at my job recently. There's been some hard times in my family life. My laptop died a few months back, and it took me awhile to replace. It's been a crazy second half of the year! Anyway, I decided to post this now. Hopefully it's worth the wait and worth a read. As always, constructive criticism is appreciated. Thank you so much for reading and for the feedback. I'm grateful for all of it. I'm glad this is being enjoyed! Hope you have a Merry Christmas and a happy holiday!**

 **Chapter 2**

Through the many plain white metal corridors of Project Quantum Leap, Samantha Fuller moved at a steady gait, passing people here and there, trying to get to the control room as quickly as possible. Since arriving on the scene almost a year ago, she had been a regular in the control room, learning the ins and outs, helping to monitor communications in the Imaging Chamber. However, she'd never been paged like this. Most of her time was spent in a small office, previously inhabited by the project's creator. Testing things, inputting data and scenarios into the computers. Meticulously browsing through folder after folder of equations, formulas, drawings-even though she had them memorized from first glance. A fascinating glimpse into the workings of Dr. Sam Beckett, a man lost to time. He was admirable. She knew the basics about him from his file: height, weight, hair color, age. She had learned more about him though before she arrived. After his Nobel Prize, the papers and news outlets were full of his back-story. An absolutely brilliant mind that couldn't afford to be lost forever. Hopefully, she could find a solution and have a chance to meet him in person someday.

With a project this hush hush, top secret, one only found out about it, if one was meant to. The liaison from the project, Albert Calavicci had been sent to talk to her. Very up front, bold, yet vague on the little details, he had told her that she had been "chosen" for the position of a lifetime. That her unique skills and IQ were desperately needed on a time travel project that had gone awry. A time travel project. She always believed such a thing was possible, and had spent more than a few spare moments working at her own theories. Now thirty two, it started as a dream when she was a child, with Brigadoon, and her father as a catalyst. Samantha smiled at the recollection.

Her life hadn't been easy. She'd been through and witnessed a fair share of awful things. More than people twice her age, more than any young person should be allowed to. Raised by a single mother, with the help of a few close family members, Samantha never had a chance to know her biological father. Her step father came into the picture when she was thirteen, and he was wonderful-loving and kind. They moved to Chicago with him. He was the perfect model of the daddy any girl would be lucky to have. But still she kept her own last name and wondered, felt a piece was missing. To be able to go backward or forward and be a part of someone's life, her father's life, or for him to be a part of hers. It was a long shot, but she believed in miracles.

While she couldn't explain it, there was more than just the hope of time travel that drew her to New Mexico. There was a connection.

Samantha suspected that there was more to her being chosen than what the Admiral let on as well. Whether it was truly fate or not, there was a secret lying there beneath the man's words, but she didn't know what.

Putting it aside she reached a set of double doors and pushed through the right, swinging door with her shoulder. She walked a short path to another door. This one protected with a security guard and system. Nodding hello, she took her hands out of her pockets bringing out a key card and holding it up to be scanned. Once scanned by the officer, she typed a series of numbers and letters into a pin pad on the wall. A green light signaled the password accepted, and the door slid open in response. She stepped through and turned a final corner to see Gooshie and Al waiting for her in the control room. They were both standing behind a multicolored desk of blue, yellow, orange, pink, green, purple, and red squares flashing intermittently.

"Samantha." Al said, looking up to see her enter.

"Hello Admiral. Gooshie." The head programmer stepped a little closer, but not much, for which she was grateful. Gooshie was a nice enough guy. A short squirrelly man with curly brown hair and a mustache. Good at his job, but his breath was lethal. Not wanting to waste time by the look on the gentlemen's faces, she cut to the chase. "What's happened? What's gone wrong?"

"We've got to be quick." Al looked flustered as he struggled to find a place to start. "Sam. He's leapt into himself this time. Not a young version. His real, actual self. It took us forever to get a lock on him. He's in a small mining town called Cokeburg, Pennsylvania…we think. At a bar called Al's place. We have no idea why he's there, or for what. And Ziggy's got nothing!"

"You've spoken to Dr. Beckett? What does he think?"

"Well, that's a whole other problem entirely. Get this…he thinks the bartender is the one who's been leaping him around from one place to the next for the last five years! I'm worried. I think it might finally be too much for him…..I think he might be losing touch with reality."

She realized the urgency, and the problems at hand. This was dangerous. Sam's life was teetering on the edge of a cliff. If he was leaping around as himself, they'd have a limited window of time to try anything before he leaped again, and then all bets were off as to whether they could find him at all. "I have a few things set up, we'll run them through Ziggy, and…."

"No." Gooshie interrupted, and then continued. "Yes, we'll need to do that. But no, that's not what we called you here for." His eyes went from hers to the door of the Imaging Chamber.

She turned to look and then back to Gooshie. "You want me to speak with him."

"Sam, asked for you personally." Al said, taking her attention.

"Why? Why me?" She said surprised, but curious.

"He told me not to ask questions, so I didn't. But, I think, he thinks, that you" Al paused pointing to her for emphasis. "are the only one that can bring him home. And so do I."

Something was off about this. Dr. Beckett, as far as she knew, up until this point, was never kept up to date on associates running the project. The thought was that the less Sam knew about the goings on back home, the better. Samantha could feel suspicion burning in her gut. And this time she didn't push it away.

"How does he know about me Admiral?"

"Oh….I've uh, mentioned you," He coughed. "Before." The man waved it off nonchalantly like a bug.

"Do you mention everyone who enters the project? I thought that information was kept at arms length from Sam. For his protection."

"Yeah. Well, we make an exception from time to time..." He drew out, stalling, perhaps, thinking for a moment. "Only when we bring in someone that we think shows incredible promise." He said and ended with a quick nod and a smile.

He was good at using charm to dance around questions she'd give him that. She folded her arms and proceeded to pace in front of her collegues. "What aren't you telling me Admiral Calavicci? My intellect is why I was chosen isn't it? My intellect not to mention intuition, tells me that there's more information that I don't have. It's important that I have all the variables." She turned to face them and planted her feet, remaining calm but firm. "My IQ is 194, yes, but that doesn't mean there aren't plenty of other qualified people out there. You said I was chosen, what makes ME specifically equipped to save him?"

Al sighed, rubbing his forehead, then walking over to put a hand on her shoulder. "He needs you to help him. The why can be answered later. It's like I said before, we've got to be quick. If you're gonna do this…"

She sighed giving up her stance for the time being. There would be answers to her questions, she would make sure of that. But right now there were more pressing matters. "I need to have my brain waves connected to his." She finished the sentence and shook her head in understanding. Then she walked out the door, Gooshie and Al close behind.


End file.
